


simmer

by paperthinn



Series: seeley's favorites [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fireplaces, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 15:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23713330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperthinn/pseuds/paperthinn
Summary: "Harry rests a book on his back; Draco feels the weight and pressure of whatever story his lover's reading through his shirt, sometimes having light bruises from where the book weighs the most."
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: seeley's favorites [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715506
Comments: 4
Kudos: 97





	simmer

**Author's Note:**

> a sweet little fic i just typed up :)
> 
> yesterday (april 17th) was my birthday, and so i wrote this as a birthday post almost. another year passed! either way, i hope you enjoy the domestic feel of this one.
> 
> the title 'simmer' is in reference to my queen hayley william's song, which i would definitely recommend giving a listen.
> 
> mind the notes at the bottom please!

It's getting colder. Harry wasn't used to having a fire lit in the fireplace when he first moved into the home he shares with Draco, but after so many chilly autumns spent with his more-than-slightly aloof lover, he's learned. Harry enjoys feeling the heat of it, normally forced to endure a slight breeze through the back of his shirt over his shoulders, deciding it's worth it if he can sit in front of the heat and read.

Draco sits with him sometimes. More often than not, he's curled up next to Harry, head laid on the brunette's shoulder, fighting sleep and listening to the gentle flutter of the turning of pages. Harry likes to read to him then, likes to read lines of his favorite poems to Draco, certain pages worn in from fingers holding them down, having been read so many times Harry certainly has them memorized.

Other times, Draco's strewn over Harry's lap. He's more likely to fall asleep here, and he has, but he doesn't most times. Harry rests a book on his back; Draco feels the weight and pressure of whatever story his lover's reading through his shirt, sometimes having light bruises from where the book weighs the most. It's not like he minds – Harry kisses them all later, applies whatever bruise paste he has on hand over them and then they're gone in a matter of minutes. The weight is comforting, really, would push him further into sleep if he wasn't wide awake. 

Normally, Harry flips the pages gently with his right hand – focused on the stanzas he's reading through, uses his other hand to absentmindedly stroke his fingers inside the blonde on his lap, fingering him open without a care in the wizarding world of how Draco vocalizes his pleasure. When Draco moves enough to jostle the book on his back, Harry will pull his fingers out and bring his hand down in a swatting motion on the man's ass, easily slipping his digits back in and giving him a few long strokes of his prostate as if apologizing for the pain. 

Draco can get away with gently rutting against Harry's thigh, the head of his aching cock dragging over whatever pants the brunette's wearing at the time. When he gets too close to an orgasm for Harry's liking, he'll cease the movements of his fingers, ignoring the sharp cry that's bound to rip from Draco's throat upon being denied. No matter how much he shoves his hips back, no matter how much he fucks himself on Harry's fingers, Harry doesn't pay him any mind – he'll simply wait until Draco calms down and then continue.

Draco enjoys the time he spends over his lap, of course, despite how much he hates having his orgasm torn from him over and over. It gives him a chance to be mindless, just feel, take what Harry gives him; no more, no less. Even now, as Draco (who's naked this time) tilts his hips just _a little bit_ away from Harry to get better friction on his cock, he's allowed to just _be._ Harry presses his fingers – he's up to three now – into Draco's prostate, curls them just right and just strokes, firm but still gentle. Draco moans, feels the flicker of heat from the fire on his side, sweat pricking at his skin. 

He'll take a shower later and he'll feel good, boneless and relaxed, and maybe Harry will wash his hair for him. Draco loves when Harry washes his hair. It took a long time for him to trust, trust his lover enough to allow him to finger Draco over his lap, trust Harry enough to take care of him. Harry cooks a lot. Mostly Molly Weasley's recipes, but some others that he knows from cooking so much throughout his childhood.

Harry flips another page. Draco presses his face into the couch, feels the rough texture of the fabric on his face, his hair falling down onto his forehead. He needs a haircut. Harry hasn't mentioned how long the white locks have gotten. There's a strong jab at Draco's prostate and he cries out, shoves his hips forward and moans at the delicious drag of his cock over Harry's clothed thigh. He's been dripping steadily for a while now, Draco's sure of it. He has no idea how long he's been at Harry's mercy, but he's certain it's been a few hours. Harry doesn't flip a page. Draco hears the soft _thud_ of the book closing, feels the weight leaving his bare back.

Harry's right hand – almost cold against Draco's sensitive skin – presses firmly on the blonde's lower back to keep him steady. The fingers inside of him start to press rougher, harder, and Draco quivers with it. He allows a desperate moan to slip off his tongue, fading into the heat of the room. Draco forces his eyes open, looks up at Harry; he's concentrated. The brunette's green eyes flicker over to Draco's face and Draco allows his eyes to close again. 

Regardless of Harry's attempts to keep him still, Draco pushes his hips back, chasing his orgasm. There's no doubt in Draco's smoke-filled mind that he'll come whether Harry wants him to do so or not. He's been denied too many times now, having given up begging for any type of release a long while ago. Harry's ability to filter out all noises is infuriating just as it's necessary most times. Draco could outright shout and Harry won't pay any attention to it.

"Are you close, my love?" Harry says, soft and sweet, drags his hand up to grab at the back of Draco's neck. Draco moans, whines despite trying to suppress it. Harry's leg shifts, rubbing ever so slightly over Draco's cock. "You've been so good for me. So obedient." Harry squeezes Draco's neck, brushes away the sweaty blonde hair from his forehead.

One firm stroke of his prostate has Draco coming, his orgasm rushing through him agonizingly slow. It seems to last forever and Draco sinks, goes boneless and gets lost in it. Harry keeps his fingers rolling at a steady pace and Draco sobs his pleasure, spills again and again over his lover's leg. Harry doesn't stop until the blonde is milked dry, left crying out the aftermath of his orgasm.

It's then that Harry pulls Draco into his lap, shushes him despite the well-worn book beside them toppling off the couch. It lands on the floor with a dull _thud,_ and the rushing sound of pages raining down on themselves as it closes itself. They sit there for a long time, the crackling of the fire spilling heat over them.

Harry carries Draco to the shower. He washes his lover's hair.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, here are my social medias – my instagram handle has changed :)
> 
> twitter: hotchnersmind, boomerrjoseph  
> instagram: paperthnn  
> pinterest: severussnxpe


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